


Ride or Fly Forever, I Got You

by evynessence



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, charity is lowkey awful to harry, harry isn't their first whitelighter, long fic, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-09-24 12:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20358886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evynessence/pseuds/evynessence
Summary: Four months into learning they had the ability to wield magic, they had been through just as many Whitelighters.Macy liked to think of this situation as Tessa standing too close to the fire, but instead of a fire, it was a magically generated sonic boom and instead of getting burned she got tomahawked out of their house.





	1. Bye, Bye Birdy

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a long fic, so I'll try and keep the updates consistent, but no promises.

Macy’s life has never been easy, even having a loving father and her intellect as support, the world had always found a way to crash in and throw her for a loop. Even after she had finally made it to Hilltown, met her sisters, learned about magic, even after she felt like she had a home and a full family, things were still far from easy. 

Four months into learning they had the ability to wield magic, they had been through just as many Whitelighters. Last night had seemed like a blur. They were trying their very hardest to pull off a protection spell using the Power of Three, something that had been a little hard for them to utilize. They’d overdone it, that was the simplest way to put it. Whether it was lack of focus or lack of level-headedness, they had sent out an energy wave instead of creating a full three-sixty force field. Their current Whitelighter, Tessa, had been dutifully watching their practice, one of the first outside of the virtual reality orb. 

Macy liked to think of this situation as Tessa standing too close to the fire, but instead of a fire, it was a magically generated sonic boom and instead of getting burned she got tomahawked out of their house. 

They had all made their way down to the kitchen that morning, simultaneously preparing for the first day of Spring semester and trying to fully digest the events of the night before. Maggie looked as put together as usual, but there was a sad glint in her eyes; her empathy extending to their now ex-Whitelighter. Mel looked just about how they all felt; sad, disappointed, but overall frustrated with how they couldn’t try to cast a spell together that didn't end up with them blowing someone up. 

Macy stood by the coffee pot, fiddling with the top and so lost in thought that she nearly jumped when her sister spoke. 

“So...” Mel began. 

The room stayed quiet for a moment before Maggie opened her mouth to speak. “Do you think she’s coming back?”

Macy let out a strangled sigh from her position at the sink. That was the million-dollar question, but she had a feeling the answer was a definite no.

“We catapulted her through the backyard, I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Mel offered.

“Not to mention, she wasn’t exactly functional when the Elders came to assess the situation,” Macy added, joining her sisters at the table with her own mug. 

Maggie took a bite of cereal, chewing for a few moments, lost in thought. It didn't take her empathic abilities to ask the question on everyone’s mind. “Are we getting another Whitelighter, or have we been deemed hopeless?” 

Macy’s eyebrows raised at her words. Now that was the million-dollar question. She wanted to say yes, definitively, calm the nerves of her younger sisters in a way that the eldest should, but she also didn’t want to lie. She tried to go for the rational approach. “We’re the most powerful witches of our generation, I’m sure the Elders will come up with someone...or something to help us.” Waiting for any type of response, she let out a small breath when Mel nodded slowly next to her. A shot of confidence ran through her. “Let’s just focus on today, get through the first day of work and school, and see how it goes from there.” 

Mel nodded again, this time more assured. Macy let her body relax, Maggie rarely needed extra convincing from her older sisters, but extra steps always needed to be taken, especially on Macy’s part, to convince Mel. 

Feeling as if she’d completed at least part of her eldest sister duties of the morning, Macy offered her sisters a semi strained smile. She couldn’t fix the problem, but she was very good at rationalization and problem-solving. 

Things were going to be okay, she hoped.


	2. Just Some Introspection and Revitalization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters for this fic's debut! Enjoy, and don't forget to tell me what you think!

‘A new assignment...his first assignment since...’ Harry Greenwood let out a slow breath he had been holding for a moment too long. 

He steepled his hands, leaning his forehead against the makeshift structure. This was an amazing honor, the first time he would be assigned charges in at least ten years, so why was he nearly shaking with anxiety over the situation? He needed something to calm his nerves. He needed some tea. 

He stood quickly, his desk chair groaning in complaint of the sudden movement. Paying the old furniture no mind, he crossed his office to the makeshift bar he had created when taking over for Marisol Vera months ago. He switched the water heater on, turning to look at the room as it came to life behind him. 

He had known Marisol, he had looked up to her, and when he had heard she was gone, murdered of all things, he hadn’t known what to do. He’d spent most of his Whitelighter days before her feeling like a tool, unappreciated and overworked, but, at the end of the day, immensely grateful for the opportunity to do good. When Marisol had gained Elder status it was suddenly like he was a gear in a moving and functioning system. She would check up on him to make sure he was doing okay, outside of his advising for his charges, and would ask him, not order him, to help her with demonology and other magical histories he was so adept in. After the Callahan incident, she had been there for him, not as an Elder, but as a friend.

He blinked back tears, grateful for the shadows in his office, despite no one else being there. The dim desk light gave off barely a glow which, aside from the morning light filtering in from the closed blinds, left the room in comfortable darkness; Harry liked it like that, it made him feel less exposed. 

Being so lost in thought, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when the scratchy sound of whirling magic rang out, and the clicking of heels quickly followed. 

“My dear,” She quickly crossed the room, cupping his face with one hand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

He sighed, her hand uncomfortably warm against his face. He wanted to move away, but out of fear it would upset her, he leaned into her hand. “I was lost in thought, you caught me unaware is all.” 

She tutted at him, frowning slightly. “Maybe you should turn on a light, it’s so dark in here.” She motioned to the room behind her, absentmindedly. “You probably were falling asleep.” 

Harry hadn’t been falling asleep, he had been thinking about Marisol Vera and his possible new charges and even the looming semester that would be starting in about six hours. But he didn't say any of that. He simply turned around to make his tea instead of stopping her from making a beeline to the light switch. 

“Tea?” He asked, eyes wincing from the sudden hospital-like light. 

“No thank you, I can’t stay long,” She hovered near his desk as he began pouring the scalding water. “I’m here on Elder business actually.” 

At that he turned around, the tea suddenly was forgotten. “Is there news?” 

She clasped her hands in front of her, a hint of a smile evident on her lips. “Yes...” 

“And...?” Almost dropping the pot in his hands, he fumbled to place it on the counter. Harry, ever the gentleman didn’t move from his spot, but he very much wanted to cross the room and shake the answer out of her. Excitement, anxiety, and gratitude had begun coursing through his veins. 

My God, is this what being high feels like? 

“The Elders...informed me that they have come to a decision.” She eyed the excitement filled in his eyes. “And they are giving you three charges.” 

“Oh...” His heart quickened. He wanted to jump up and down, scream out of happiness, throw himself at Charity’s feet in thanks. Anything, anything to express his utmost happiness, but all he did was stand there. 

A look then crossed his face, one of curiosity and wonder 

She offered him a smile, she knew exactly what was running through his brain. “Would you like to know whose Whitelighter you’re going to be?” 

A man who usually had many words was rendered speechless, so he nodded. Vigorously. 

“I’m sure you’re aware of the Charmed Ones?” 

His blood ran cold and he’s sure his heart stopped at that moment, “Oh.” 

Marisol’s girls. He felt like that would be a conflict of interest, given their small friendship in her last days, but he supposed not in the Elder’s minds. 

Did he know the Charmed Ones? No, not personally, but in the Whitelighter community, they were notorious for sending their Whitelighters back in more pieces than one. They had only accepted their witchly destiny four months ago and within two weeks, their first Whitelighter had to be collected on a stretcher. Apparently, a training accident gone wrong. A month later they had to cut their next Whitelighter out of a section of the wall, and the horror stories only continued with the other two. Tessa, their most recent Whitelighter, had yet to wake up from the magically induced coma the Elders had placed her under. 

“For healing purposes.” Charity had explained to him when he had responded distastefully to the news. 

Tessa was a colleague but also a friend to him, one who frequently asked him for advice; in both Whitelighter affairs and the best breakfast recipes. Not knowing what happened to her scared him almost as much as the idea of having to act as an advisor to the same girls that had put her there. 

These were the witches that the magical community talked about on their coffee breaks. Never, Harry, he was above all of the petty gossips- obviously- but that didn't mean he didn’t hear it. The bad, the ugly, and the horrendous. 

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by Charity’s hands on his. When had she gotten so close?

“You’re going to do amazing, Harry. No one is as devoted and innovative with their charges as you are.” She offered him a smile before adding, “I should know best, after all, shouldn’t I?” 

He felt himself relax at her words, she was right, he had always been a great Whitelighter. It was only after...He didn’t let himself go there, this was a clean slate. That’s what the elders had given him, a fresh start. 

“I better get going.” Squeezing his hands, she leaned up, placing a brisk kiss on his cheek, retracting before he had time to react. “You meet them tomorrow. Enjoy your tea, Harry.” 

In a flash, she was gone, leaving him in a too bright office with so many thoughts swirling around his head. As if on autopilot, he turned back to his half-made tea, and reached for the cup. Before he could stop himself from making a bad decision, he sipped the liquid. His face contorted, and he had to force himself to swallow although everything in him wanted to spit the scalding drink out. 

He hoped the next few days didn't leave him with worse injuries.


	3. The Economy of Being A Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! I'm aiming for one per week (with some surprises every so often), so put it in your calendar! Also, enjoy this chapter!

Macy watched as her littlest sister finished pulling out the last of her textbooks and placed them on the table with a quirked eyebrow and a smile on her face. 

Last semester they had made a habit of finding time in the week to eat lunch together when Maggie wasn't tied down with class and Macy and Mel could get away from work for an hour or so. She was beyond elated when Mel had sent a text to their group chat that she was holding them a table in the warmth near Maggie’s favorite vegan food truck.

_‘A break from the hecticness of the first day and our lives, in general, would be nice.’ _Maggie had quickly responded. _‘On my way.’_

Macy had opted for a quick thumb’s up emoticon, grabbing her things and briskly telling Galvin and the rest of her team they could take lunch. She pulled the lapels of her coat closer to her body as she stepped through the doors and into the chilly January air; they kept the lab at a pleasant seventy-four degrees which always brought a shock to her body when she walked into the nearly freezing temperatures of Hilltown’s winter. 

Her walk to the quad had been brief, the massive stretch of greenery was strategically placed in the middle of the bustling campus. Meaning, most academic buildings were within a two-minute walk; the lab, although tucked into its own corner, was no exception to this rule. 

Watching Maggie unload the entirety of her backpack onto the tabletop had been rather entertaining because as each item was removed it came with some form of commentary. 

_“That’s my Philosophy 101 textbook. Probably never going to open it, but at least Socrates can be happy knowing I spent fifty dollars to rent it.”_

_“Introducing my Music Appreciation books. Yes, plural, books, because there is more than one way to appreciate music apparently.” _

Mel had responded with a giggle and an all-knowing shake of her head. It was very much like Maggie to complain about things before actually setting her mind on it and getting it done. 

“Is there anything you’re _excited_ about this semester?” Macy tried, as Mel got up to grab them something warm to munch on from outside. 

“Oh! Yes!” Maggie paused, allowing her sister to return before continuing. “I’m taking Developmental Psychology this semester! My first real Psychology class! I’m ready to start feeling like a Psych major.” She shimmied her shoulders for good measure, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Macy.

“Going to find out why everyone in this world is so screwed up?” Mel placed a tray with a plethora of hot foods in front of them. “Spoiler alert, it was probably some fucked up childhood stuff.” 

Not a moment after the words had escaped her lips, did the sound of sizzling magic fill the air, and Charity Callahan appeared twenty feet away. Nearly jumping out of her skin, Macy tried to not let it show on her face. She still wasn't used to magical folk appearing out of thin air, no matter how many Whitelighters they had gone through. She knew they had some sort of magical veil to keep humans from seeing them portal in and out, but that didn’t keep her from never expecting it to happen. 

Charity eyed them, her look hardening as she locked eyes with Mel. Dressed to Elder perfection, her white pea coat and matching sweater and pants blended almost perfectly with the snowy campus outside. Her perfectly painted pink lips were pressed into a thin, forced smile as she approached the girls. 

“Speaking of one of society's many victims.” Mel chimed, throwing Charity another look, before snagging herself a bite of food. 

Macy bit her tongue to keep from laughing. The ongoing feud between their overseeing Elder and Mel was still as present as always, and she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy the verbal combat, every once in a while. It hadn’t taken long for Charity to get sick of the frequent visits to the Vera-Vaughn household, and Mel had quickly followed with expressing her distaste in how she and the other elders were doing their jobs. Thus, the war had been waged. 

If lines had to be drawn, there was no question where the sisters stood, but for the sake of keeping the peace, Maggie and Macy usually attempted to keep the peace. It had resulted in quite a few heated words directed at Macy, but she knew Mel was just frustrated with their inability to change anything. 

“Girls.” She gave a curt nod in Macy’s direction. “And Mel.” 

“How very mature of you, Elder Callahan.” Mel jeered, taking her seat in between her sisters, the farthest spot from their visitor. 

Macy let out a sigh from Mel’s left, it seemed that the battle between the two was starting early today. She expected it from Mel; she was frustrated and angry, but Charity feeding into it— _starting it_— always rubbed her the wrong way.

“Charity!” Maggie said, throwing a side glance at her sister. “What a... surprise!” 

“To what do we owe this...pleasure?” Macy attempted to sound as excited to see their superior as her sister. She was answered with a scoff from Mel.

“A pleasure, it is, I’m sure. Well, I come bearing news.” She leveled a look at the three of them. “About your ex-Whitelighter and the poor man that is going to be the replacement.” 

“Her name is Tessa,” Mel muttered, the fire behind her words replaced with a hint of guilt. 

“How is she?” Maggie piped up, the look on her face saying she was both eager and scared for the answer. 

“Stable, the last I heard, but that’s not the reason I’m here.” Charity said curtly. “You’ll meet your new Whitelighter tomorrow. I’ll be bringing him over, to make sure you girls don't throw him through a window like you did last time.”

They all sat there silently. What did one say to that exactly? Just that morning they were all convinced they were hopeless, and now, here was their _least _favorite person on the planet, telling them that they weren’t necessarily doomed. Were they supposed to be excited? Macy doubted they could get Mel jumping up and down, especially in Charity’s presence. 

The Elder pressed her lips together, nerves evident on her features. Macy almost had to do a double-take. Yes, Charity had emotions she needed to express every once in a while, but not very often and _never _around The Charmed Ones. “I-” She paused, collecting herself; her face resumed its expressionless look. “_We_ kind of like this one, so please be gentle with him.” She gave each of them a once over before hastily turning and disappearing through her portal. 

“I’d just like to point out that we didn't send Tessa flying through anything until _at least_ three weeks into her being our Whitelighter,” Mel grumbled, biting into a, now, cold piece of food. Her face contorted as the stale taste hit her tongue. 

Macy hopped in her seat, trying to get the look of a _vulnerable_ Charity out of her mind’s eye. “At least the Elders haven’t deemed us untrainable!” She looked to both her sisters. “This is _good _news, this is _great _news.” She couldn’t stress the positive adjectives enough.

Maggie nodded slowly, the gears turning in her head as she chewed generously. Macy let her words hang in the air as they all receded into their own heads. Getting them excited usually wasn’t what she was best at anyway. She knew there wasn’t much to worry about but getting a new Whitelighter— visits from Charity— it typically put them on edge and allowed stress to weigh heavy on their minds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're moving along steadily. Don't worry, Harry will finally get a scene with the trio next chapter! I hope you enjoyed, and, as always, let me know your thoughts


	4. A Meeting of the Century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter! Please enjoy!

Harry turned on his heels, pacing the length of his kitchen before turning and doing it again. He had spent half of the day researching his soon-to-be-charges in both the realm of mortals and magics; dissecting every piece of information he possibly could. He had made a research board that, the more he looked at it, creepily resembled a murder board. He had been so nervous to meet them that his school duties had fallen second to the research rabbit hole he had gladly let himself fall headfirst into. 

Charity was expected any minute, to materialize through her portal and whisk him to finally meet them. He ran his hands through his hair for the fifth time that minute; he could feel his nerves manifest into magic, rolling off his body in orange-tinted waves and out into the air. The air almost crackled with static electricity, as the smell before a storm began to spread in his condo. 

As if on cue, Charity’s magic buzzed through the air, and a purple portal appeared in his living room. She stepped out, clad head-to-toe in white garments, announcing to anyone paying attention to her status, that she was here on business. Her hair was pulled out of her face and into a bun on the top of her head, which tilted back to sniff the air. 

“Harry? Are you okay?” She took a few steps until she was within arms distance of him. “I can _see _your nervous energy.” 

He sighed, trying to pull himself together. He had never been this nervous before, especially about his job. He was used to nervous, anxious, and excited energy getting confused for one another, but he had never physically manifested his emotions. 

“I know you’ve always struggled with keeping the more empathic powers under control,” Charity said, stepping up to him. “But you’re okay, this is going to be okay.” She reached up to cup his face. 

In an instant her lips were on his, kissing him and pulling his thoughts away from his charges. On instinct his mouth began moving with hers; it was a chaste kiss that ended almost as soon as it had begun, but it had served its purpose to relax his nerves. 

He muttered out a thank you, letting out a breath of relief as he noticed that the orange magic had been absorbed back into his body. 

“I know this is all very stressful,” She smoothed down the lapels on his newly dry-cleaned suit. “But these girls are going to be so lucky to have a Whitelighter like you.” She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So, let’s go meet them, yeah?” 

He nodded, sucking in another breath as Charity linked arms with him and directed him towards the portal she’d made. He didn’t know these girls, they weren’t their mother, but he wanted to get to know them. For the sake of his duties, but also to keep the Vera-Vaughn witch lineage alive. It’s what Marisol would have wanted. 

They stepped through the shimmering circle and his condo dissolved behind them. He stepped forward, entering the foyer of a house foreign to him.

The house looked exactly as he would have imagined it to look; sadness and appreciation found its way into the pit of his stomach. The dark wooden furniture and plethora of books in every room seemed to breathe the soul of Marisol into the house, and the added features of modern literature, chargers, and other personal belongings scattered around available surfaces spoke to the three women living in the house now. To his left was a small room ideal for having a cup of tea and gathering comfortably, and beyond that, through a doorway, he spied the dining room. To the right was a half-closed door that lead to what he could only guess was a study. The stairs jutted out in front of them, leading to the inky blackness of the second story. He inhaled deeply, scents of lavender and vanilla immediately becoming evident, but the longer he stood in the front room, the more the smell of static assaulted his nostrils. 

“You smell that too, huh?” 

Her words pulled him out of his thoughts. He took another deep breath, the smell before a thunderstorm filling his lungs once again. 

“Is that…?” He’d been a member of the magical community for many decades, long enough to know the potent smell of manifested magic anywhere. 

“Magic. Strong, intense, powerful magic.” Each word was punctuated with a step until she was facing him. “If you were at all surprised why they are constantly getting attacked by demons, be surprised no longer.” 

The smell was dizzying, invading his lungs and making his head throb as the power pulsed around his body. It felt like a heavyweight had been placed on his chest; he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than breathing. 

“You’ll get used to it eventually, it even took me some time.” Charity gave him a once over before nodding absentmindedly. “Stay here, I need to go find these girls, they’re not exactly fond of people barging in.” 

Harry wanted to mention that leaving him— a complete stranger to the household— alone in the foyer, while she wandered around, was probably not the best idea, but before he could protest, she had already disappeared. He glanced around, partially hoping he would find one of his new charges, and partially hoping that they weren't home. He took a step towards the sitting room. Bookcases lined with old tomes and classics and even Rainbow Rowell’s newest novel sat pushed against the far wall of the room; couches and other chairs were arranged in a crude circle surrounding a coffee table. They all looked cozy and well-worn like they had been there a lifetime and had yet to lose their comfort. Blinking back tears, he gave himself a moment to appreciate all the Marisol had created, both physical treasures and emotional.

The sound of clicking high heels brought his attention back to the stairs where Charity was beginning to descend. “They aren’t here.” She clicked her tongue. “I can’t say I’m surprised, they are not the most punctual.”

Harry furrowed his brows, “So they’re not home?”

“No.”

Her tone was mildly aggressive, making him do a double-take. “Well, where are they? It certainly isn’t polite to be here while they aren’t present.” Acute panic began to spark in his chest. If they weren’t here, where could they be? Certainly, witches who have had _some _instruction should be able to hold their own if need be, but they were still coming into their powers. What if they had gotten badly injured in a fight? He hadn’t set up the direct call line between the four of them yet.

Charity raised an eyebrow. “I’m an Elder, if I need a council with them, I’ll have it.”

She sounded like a vexed child, he thought. All she needed to do was throw her hands up and stomp her foot. He didn’t want to deal with her throwing a temper tantrum if someone was in danger. “Just because you hold Elder status doesn’t mean others will bend at your will, Charity.” He hadn’t thought before he had spoken, internally scolding himself for being so careless.

She paused her descent, one step from the bottom. “Excuse me? Is that any way to talk to _me_?”

He scoffed, anxiety melding into frustration. Who was she to talk to him like he was a child? “Are you saying that as my boss or my beau?”

She clenched her jaw, stepping down and towards him, “Both.”

Frustration and, yes, possibly even anger struck him like a lightning bolt.

_______________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________ 

Mel sighed, another long day of answering phones and filing paperwork. Meaningless tasks feeding into an even more meaningless feeling that sat heavy in her chest. She knew that her job meant little in the grand scheme of things, apocalypse and other magic things included, but it didn’t stop her from wanting a day to day fulfillment that she needed to— as Maggie put it— carry on with her civilian life. She _was _still human after all, or as human, as one could be while also stopping time on command.

She ascended the steps to her house, blindly fishing her keys from her purse as she neared the front door. Halfway to unlocking it, she paused. There were voices coming from the other side of the door, echoing through the house; the multiple attacks since Tessa had left them made her mind go to the worst. Hand raised, she threw the door open, walking into a scene she wasn’t expecting.

_______________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________ 

He had heard the lock. He had tried to interrupt her as she went off on a tangent about work versus play protocol, a lecture he had gotten more than once. He been silenced with a pointed look from her. So, no, it was not at all a surprise when one of his charges forced the door open and stood, mouth falling agape, in the doorway staring at them. Suffice to say, she stopped talking then.

Harry locked his eyes on the figure in the doorway. The magnetic magical pull, as well as curiosity, kept his eyes on her as she stepped into the house and swung the door closed behind her with a slam. She didn’t pay him any mind; he was almost certain she didn’t even notice him, and he couldn’t tell if he was appreciative or bothered. A frown was plastered on her features as she shrugged off the leather jacket on her shoulders and hung it on the rack adjacent to the door, not once taking her eyes off of Charity. She collected her dark hair into her hands, pulling it into a ponytail with the same energy as people removing jewelry before getting into a fight. Her strong jaw was now visible and clenched; her lips pursed. Harry suddenly felt very, very afraid.

As she stepped towards them, he really (really) wanted to take a step back. The magic hanging densely in the air, swirled— transparent, like barely visible water vapor— around her before dissolving thickly on her skin. Interesting, was his first thought, how the house held a lot of magical energy as if a beacon for it. His second thought was him realizing that his headache had partially receded, though he couldn’t tell if the two were mutually exclusive.

Instantly straightening her spine, Charity addressed the woman with a curt nod. “Mel.”

“Charity.”

Harry looked between the two, neither blinked as a staredown commenced. He felt as if he had accidentally walked into the crosshairs of a silent war. Tension filled the room, and he felt like he had been uninvited to the conversation and room in general.

He took a deep breath, if the _Elder _in the room was going to act like a child, there was no choice but for him to take the lead of this conversation. Rolling his shoulders back, he ran his hands along the front of his suit smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles.

He opened his mouth to speak when a voice from the second-floor balcony beat him to it. “I didn’t know we were throwing a party. Mel, why didn’t you tell me we were throwing a party?”

Standing against the bannister above them stood a young woman— no older than nineteen— clad in pajamas. She had a sleeping mask pulled atop her messy, umber hair, and a puffy look about her face telling everyone in the foyer that they had just woken her up from a particularly nice rest. Her hard eyes were flicking between the two women next to Harry. He swore for a moment that if he walked out now no one would notice.

“A party?” Mel said, throwing her sister a quizzical look.

Her younger sister, who Harry quickly noted from his research was Maggie, shrugged her shoulders. “I couldn’t figure out another reason why there would be so much commotion.” He noted slight sarcasm in her voice.

“No party, just business. I didn’t think anyone was home.” Charity chimed in. “Where’s Macy?”

As if on cue, the eldest of the three appeared on the balcony, a notebook in hand. “Oh! Maggie! Thank goodness you’re awake, I finally got results from the test I did.” Maggie looked lost. “Of the residue? You’re not going to believe what I found!” She flipped through the pages in her hand. “We need to get Mel here, ASAP.”

Her eyes reverted back to the paper in her hands, scanning her notes. A crease in-between her eyebrows formed as she devoted all of her focus. Harry didn’t know what it was, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Mel cleared her throat. Harry blinked. When had she gotten on the second floor?

“I’m here.” She moved to stand next to her youngest sister.

Macy jumped at the sudden closeness of the other girl. “Shit, I didn’t even hear you come in. When did you get home?”

“A minute ago, had to deal with a thing.” She gestured aimlessly below in Charity and Harry’s direction. He averted his gaze, shooting a glance at Charity who was preoccupied with something on her phone.

Macy’s eyes filtered down to them, she registered their Elder, but when her eyes fell on him they were filled with confusion. “Uh, everyone else sees the guy in a suit, right?”

All eyes were now on him, causing him to shuffle in place.

Maggie blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes for good measure. Mel looked the most shocked out of the three girls staring down at him. A look of realization crossing her face as she silently nodded to herself.

“Hey,” Charity gingerly placed her hand on his shoulder. Her phone was in her hand, an apologetic look clear on her features. “I just got a text, they need me back at the office. Can you handle this?”

He didn’t want to just let his anger go from the argument earlier, but the way she was looking at him, so apologetically, it disarmed him. He nodded curtly, trying to put up a face of all business. “Of course.”

She turned to look at the witches watching their interaction intently. “I’m very sorry girls, but I must dash. As always, the pleasure is all mine.” With a flourish of her hand, she retreated through a portal.

Mel let out an audible sigh, relaxing against the bannister in front of her. Her eyes then fell on him, a scowl returning. “So, what is the Women’s Studies Department Chairman doing in our foyer?”

“I’m sorry the _who_ now?” Maggie raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“I _did_ say the stock photo for white-cis-male right?”

“Mel! He’s standing right there.” Macy interjected, notes forgotten for the moment.

“If I’m going to say it, might as well say it to his face, right?”

“Pardon me,” He finally spoke, the exchanged looks and comments came to a halt. He drew in a breath and exhaled the most confident voice he could muster. “My name is Harry Greenwood, and I am your Whitelighter.” He paused, when no one spoke, he continued with a wave of his hand. “Physically, I died in 1957, but-”

He had prepared a pretty eloquent speech, half of which he was sure they had heard multiple times, given their many mentors. It seemed, though, that the universe had different plans for them because just as he felt phlegmatic enough to dive in, a loud crash sounded from somewhere deep in the house.

“What the _hell_ was that,” Maggie all but shrieked.

All of their postures had changed instantly. Harry’s pulse was hammering in his ears. Mel was standing up straight, hands by her sides ready for action. Maggie had pulled the sleeping mask from her head, any chance of catching more sleep was gone. Macy looked frantic, clutching her notebook fiercely with both hands.

“Right, about that, uh,” Macy stammered. “I think it's back.”

He had so many questions. _What was back? When was the last time it was here? Did anyone think to put a protection spell on the house?_ He felt useless just standing there, below them to make matters worse, there was no way to protect them if something happened. Before he could think to orb closer to them, there was another, closer, crash. His heart slammed like a jackhammer as every terrible thought surfaced.

_‘Losing your charges, the first day you have them is not exactly ideal.’ _He thought of Fiona. Her glazed over eyes the last time he saw her. His blood rushed in his ears; his feet were rooted to the spot.

“Oh, brother,” Macy uttered before the ground right next to her exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know Hacy didn't really have a conversation and nothing has really happened, but I promise there will be more to come in the team building area.


	5. Interlude: Macy Takes a Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO CHAPTERS??? WHAT! That's right! A little special gift from me to you! More on the way!

Macy liked to be calculated. Understanding what had happened in the past to better predict what was _going _to happen in the future. She thrived off of logical and systematic inferences. Science was only possible through replication; things were cyclical, if it happened once, twice, there was a very good chance it was going to happen a third time. She was a scientist, and she should have guessed that the demon would be back. 

Sailing through the air had its momentary perks, like weightlessness and clarity. Crashing into one’s sisters as a result of said sailing, did not. Her back slammed into Maggie full force, knocking the younger girl to the ground almost instantly. Mel, always having the quickest reflexes of the three, sidestepped, narrowly avoiding an airborne Macy. Her shoulder collided into the ground, hard, knocking the air right out of her lungs and blurring her vision. Ears ringing, she tried to push herself off the floor, but pain shot through her body like a hot iron. Her vision was filled with black spots as she laid back down. Part of her knew she needed to get up, her sisters needed her, it didn’t matter how good they were individually, nothing was stronger than sisterhood. It was just so damn hard to stay awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Macy! As always, leave a comment and kudos if you please!


	6. This One's Going To Hurt in the Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That mini-chapter leave you on a bit of a cliff hanger? Well! The wait is over! Enjoy!

He shook himself from his anxiety-induced stupor, orbing to Mel’s side where she stood— arm extended— face plastered in concentration. The floor right next to where Macy had been standing was uprooted, splinters of wood hanging in the air and wrapped in a blue hue as if time had been paused. His mind shot back to his research board as his legs pulled him to Maggie’s side.

_Melanie Vera, second oldest of the three Charmed Ones, daughter to Marisol Vera and a mortal by the name of Ray Desantos. Active power: Temporal Manipulation._

She was rolling off her back and onto her side to sit up; coughing and gagging as she willed her lungs to work properly. He reached for her shoulder, extending his magic to search for possible injuries. 

She caught his hand before he could touch her and pointed down the hall where her eldest sister was lying, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Go help Macy.” 

“Macy?” Mel’s voice was strained, “Mace, you okay?”

Maggie coughed again and everything within him wanted to try and heal her, but he understood priorities needed to be in order, and an unresponsive charge took top priority. Giving Maggie one last look, he skirted down the hall, reaching Macy’s side as Mel called for her other sister to find some spell to contain their problem. She was laying on her back, her arm bent in a strange direction, and her chest rose and fell in small, quick movements. 

Harry hovered above her, his gaze frantically scanning her body for any external wounds. Macy blinked up at him, her eyes glassy and unresponsive. Taking a deep breath, he gingerly took hold of her good arm scanning her body magically for any internal injuries. The synopsis filtered through his mind a moment later.

_Dislocated shoulder, possible rib fracture, scraped knee, extreme dizziness. _

He closed his eyes, willing his magic to bubble to the surface of his palms. Threads of magic appeared at the forefront of his mind, he imagined them pouring out of his fingertips and spilling into her body. There was a tug, somewhere deep in his gut, and he felt her wounds responding to him.

She sat up with a start almost toppling him to the ground, “Shit.”

Her hair, which had previously been tight in a bun at the base of her neck, was now breaking loose; ringlets pulled their way out of the restriction and pooled around her face. She rubbed her shoulder, slowly meeting his gaze. There was a look of vulnerability still evident in her eyes even as the absent look began to dissipate. She registered him, brown fully met green and she opened her mouth to speak. 

“Macy!” Mel’s voice was strained. “Someone tell me she’s alright.”

Mel hadn’t moved an inch, but her posture had begun to sag at the weight of upholding the spell. Like Atlas, stuck holding up the sky, the pressure of condensing such a force was beginning to take its toll on her. Maggie in this time had been able to collect a tome— what Harry instantly recognized as The Book of Shadows— from its place and was furiously flipping its pages.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” Macy began climbing to her feet, prompting Harry to hastily give her a hand. 

“Good, because I can’t hold this thing much longer.”

Speaking up for the first time, Harry willed all the authority and confidence to show itself now. “On the count of three, Melanie, press play.” Instantly by her side, he extended both his hands to match her stance. “One, two, three.” 

At the exact moment Mel dropped her hands, pulling her magic out of the air, Harry commanded his to take its place. The extent of the explosion played itself out in an orange orb the size of a basketball. Smoke and electricity fizzed and clouded the sphere as whatever force was on the inside bounced itself around, creating indentations as it went. His confidence was high, having not only healed someone for the first time in ten years but also having cast a successful containment spell, trapping a rather pesky demon. It wasn’t until the full force of magical pressure hit him that he understood Mel’s strain. He felt like he’d run full force into a brick wall.

“Whatever this is, it’s really powerful.” 

“Well, yeah, they progressively _have_ been getting harder to vanquish.” 

His spine when ramrod straight, as he tried to keep his focus on the task before him. “I beg your pardon? This sort of thing has happened before?”

Maggie’s eyebrows were knitted in slight pain, but she was shaking her head vigorously. “We had a couple of break-ins a month ago, but each time Charlie, and then Tessa, reassured us there were protection spells up.” 

The commotion in his magic bubble died down, and for a moment Harry allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He almost let his magic recede. Almost. 

Suddenly there was a force fighting against his hands, pushing and shoving his magic towards him. He grit his teeth, the magic orb was vibrating violently; the form inside counteracting Harry’s magic with some of its own. The witches behind him all let out terrified shouts.

“Does this demon have the capability to wield magic?”

He was met with a flurry of answers, the sister’s voices piling over one another, their responses getting lost in the frenzy.

“Girls.”

The vocal chaos ensued.

“_Girls.” _

Sweat was dripping into his eyes. He could feel it pool on the small of his back, forcing his shirt to cling to him. Breathing was hard with this much magical pressure forced on him. Their voices rose above it all.

“_GIRLS!”_

Silence. Immediately followed by an annoyed huff that he had no doubt came from Mel.

“I’m sorry, ladies,” he got out. “Please, one at a time.”

“It didn’t have magic first three times we fought it. It was just a weird… rock gremlin, then it became a rock gremlin who could throw fireballs.” Mel’s voice chimed. 

The orb of Harry’s magic suddenly shot itself towards the four of them, eliciting a strangled scream from Maggie, followed by a coughing fit. He was instantly concerned, wishing he had pushed to heal her. 

“How did you ladies vanquish it before?” 

“We have a spell.” 

“Power of Three?”

“Our greatest power is our sisterhood.” 

“So, I’m taking that as a yes?” 

Mel’s eyes bore holes into his back, “Yes.” 

Uh,” Maggie began before she sputtered into a violent coughing fit. “Not to be a buzzkill, but I don’t know if I can do the spell.” 

There was a moment of silence. He knew she was hurt and with every moment they stood there undecided about a solution, the form he was holding back was— somehow— growing stronger. He was starting to understand how Mel had felt, the sheer power it took to hold the demon at bay was taking its toll on him. His neck was slick with sweat and now his collar was sticking to him; he cursed inwardly at himself for wearing all three pieces of his suit. He racked his brain for a solution when his mind took him back to a summer vacation he had taken with Charity.

“Ladies,” He began, “I may have a plan.” 

_______________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________ 

Macy’s heart drummed in her ears, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Tuesday nights were typically low stress. It wasn’t Monday, the week had already started so there’s no stress about making a good start. Any weekend homework was either done or had been missed, so basically there was no high stress on a _Tuesday_. Oh, wait, except for when Tuesday’s became the designated demon-killing day. 

Macy couldn’t argue with Harry’s plan, much to Mel’s aggravation, because it had not only been a good one, but it was the only one they really had. 

“I’m sorry, you want to use us as _what_, white man?” Mel had said, her voice rising with annoyance. Macy knew that once those passionate emotions were released, it was hard to reign them back in. 

Harry’s face had been swallowed in a red tint, and despite holding the demon trying to kill them all, he had time to open and close his mouth like a blubbering fish. “It’s only momentary-” 

Mel had raised her hand, silencing him without having to activate her powers. “I got it, we all heard the plan. I just don’t particularly enjoy it.” 

Macy agreed with her sister, but logically, initiating a risky plan that had some margin of success was better than wasting precious time to form a new one, possibly leading to their demise. Separating her emotional and rational thought, she knew Maggie needed to be healed before they could perform the spell, then the next logical course of action was making Harry available to actually heal her. Which meant a distraction. Which meant Mel and Macy, putting themselves in the line of fire for a few minutes. 

“Why can’t I just freeze it again?” 

Harry then nodded, thinking about that for a moment as the demon trapped in his magic inched itself closer. He looked worn. Every so often his shoulders would shake, and his knees would wobble. They had no idea who this man was, only that he knew more than enough about them. The scientist in her wanted to figure him out as if he was a quick math problem she could do in her head. For a moment, she was extremely envious of Maggie’s empathic powers; there was a hypothesis blooming in her brain as to who Harry Greenwood was. A Whitelighter, obviously, with a Callahan blessing— one that meant little to the Vera-Vaughn household— and, from what she gathered, a huge heart. She had seen the panic-stricken look in his eyes after her vision had cleared. It was replaced with relief so quickly she had thought for a moment she imagined it. She knew it was his job to protect them at all costs, but part of her wanted to believe it went deeper than his duty.

Harry’s response cut into her thought process, forcing her to return to the present dilemma. “Having utmost strength is what is important for vanquishing this demon, and I assure you, it is getting stronger.” 

Mel hadn’t argued with that, and Macy couldn’t tell if it was because she genuinely agreed, or because he looked to be in such bad shape that arguing would only delay the inevitable. She grumbled something inaudible before nodding to herself. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

That was, in a roundabout way, how Macy ended up in the foyer, avoiding a direct blast of smoldering flames as she used her telekinetic abilities to hurtle the demon between herself and her sister. Mel had conjured a shield-like aura surrounding her hands, giving her the ability to volley the creature between the two of them.

She didn’t know what they were fighting, her tests on the residue had been inconclusive for any living creature on Earth, but that wasn’t at all unusual when dealing with demons. It had, however, shown a structure similar to living coral, porous and alive in its own right. The fact that it was wielding its own magic, though, was terrifying beyond a doubt. It had withstood being slammed into multiple pieces of furniture, breaking them as it went, and even when she tried to pull it apart with her mind, it prevailed, angrier each time.

Macy threw the demon towards her sister, preparing herself for the volley back, and immediately wishing she hadn’t.

Diving out of the way, Mel let out a strangled cry as she evaded a stream of fire directed at her head. “Any time you want to join us, Harry, I’d really appreciate it.” 

Harry shouted something from above the bannister, but it was swallowed by the howling noise the demon emitted. It jet-streamed fire down at her sister, using the force to keep itself airborne.

“No, don’t worry about us,” Mel panted, using one hand to deflect the flames and the other to uppercut the demon sending it in Macy’s direction. “We enjoy being fried witches!” 

Macy wanted to comment, she enjoyed a little battle smack talk like any other demon-fighting witch, but with every passing minute, it took more and more effort to slam the creature into the ground or grind it into the wall. 

“I said, I’m just about done.” His voice was closer now; out of the corner of her eye, Macy spied him on the other end of the foyer next to Mel. “Macy!” His voice was strong, commanding her attention. “I can hold it idle for a moment! You three need to cast the spell!” 

She listened to his words, vaulting the demon into the air, allowing her magic to recede back into her body. In an instant, she felt her sister’s hands in hers, confidence bubbling in her chest as they faced the screeching, suspended culprit of many aggravatingly late demon hunts. 

She hadn’t ever gotten a good look at it, the quick feet and fire on the thing had always kept it two steps ahead. But now that it was hanging in the air above them, she gave herself a moment to stare. It was small, a little bigger than a standard garden gnome, with a crude, round face; sharply pointed ears; and a hooked nose. It was thrashing around, flashing its’ yellowed fangs and long talon-like fingers. It was a strange off-green color, and it had the most piercing orange eyes Macy had ever seen. Its pudgy body was covered only by a sleeveless tunic stopping just short of its’ knobby knees. 

Staring for so long sent a shiver down her spine. Before she could begin thinking about the thousands of possible demons who fit that profile, she felt a rush of power, followed by a collection of Maggie’s thoughts pushing to the forefront of her mind. 

_‘Hey, guys, Maggie here. Everyone remember the spell?” _Her brain was flooded with words in a language she’d never stumbled upon before but was acutely familiar with all at the same time. They’d cast this spell three too many times.

She wanted to make a snarky comment about how Maggie had introduced herself as if there was another person who would be invading their most personal of spaces, but she kept her mouth shut. 

_‘Let’s vanquish this demon!’ _She sent thoughts of agreement. _‘Also, shut up, both of you! I’ll introduce myself as I please.’ _

Sharing a smile with Mel before Maggie began the chant, she quickly followed suit, as the words swirled in her brain. She felt the power swell in her chest and rush to her palms where it intermingled with her sister’s. It felt like a tug of war within her own body as if her magic couldn’t decide whether to stay put or pour into her sisters. She felt sick, her stomach twisting as the intoxicating rush of magic entered and exited her rapidly.

There was a flash. All she could see was white. Her veins burned as if someone had injected them with liquid fire, and all she felt was her power and consciousness slip from her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the exchange of magic in this universe is SO fun! I wonder what happened to them?!?!?


	7. Breakfast: the Most Important Meal of a Witch's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a minute, but we are back up and running!

Watching the power of three up close had been pretty breathtaking, but feeling the magical resonance from their work had been the closest thing to soul stopping Harry had ever experienced. He was about to open his mouth to congratulate his charges on a job well done (one of many, he was certain) when the white light emanating from their eyes dimmed and they all collapsed in a ring of bodies.

He was no expert on magic that came from such a strong power source, but he was fairly sure that something like that was not supposed to happen. Blinking, he wanted to make sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him; they were all unconscious. They were breathing- thank the universe- but they were not waking up. No matter how much he willed them to.

He let out an exasperated huff, a Whitelighter’s work was never done. Using his basic levitation abilities, he carried the sisters one after another to their rooms where he laid them gingerly under the covers, after removing their shoes. Only after he did a full magical scan for injuries, did he return downstairs to assess the damage done to the house.

_______________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________

Waking with a start, it took him a moment to adjust his eyes to the morning sun streaming through the window above him. He took in his surroundings, the unfamiliar house around him did little to calm his beating heart, and the uncomfortable cushions under him only made his backache. Checking his phone for the time, he swung his legs off of the couch. There was no way, given what his charges had been through, that they were going to be up before nine, much less at six in the morning.

The house was quiet, aside from it settling, and it suddenly hit him how homey it was. Yes, it had primarily warm colors, something that was always helpful in comfort, but there was a difference between this home and what he called home. Or even what he had called home for all the years he’d been a Whitelighter. It felt lived in. Not lived in in the sense that its occupants had to pass through it, because they did have to pass through this specific room to get to the kitchen but lived in in the sense that there were memories here. He could almost feel them, like ghosts, whispering past him as they played out invisibly.

His stomach dropped as it dawned on him that he shouldn't be there. He wasn’t a member of this household, he wasn't invited to stay, yes, his reasoning had been with his charges in mind, but that didn’t excuse his invasion of their home. Yet, he didn't want to leave. He’d only just met them, and there was something about working with them last night that had excited him. Like he’d been waiting at a bus stop for decades, and now the bus had finally come to pick him up. Included, that’s what he felt.

In a split second, a decision was made. The elders would see it as they wished, but he had a defense that it was in the best interest of the Charmed Ones. As he moved to stand, a cold sweat made his dress shirt sling to him. On second thought, he decided, before anything a shower was in order.

_______________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________

She’d awoken with a scream frozen in her throat and a layer of dried sweat on her forehead that stuck like a second skin. She cared less about connecting the dots of last night to this morning and more about feeling the cleansing tendrils of steamy water on her skin. The hot water in the house was always hit-or-miss, and she knew that Maggie would have a few strong words angled at her, but she hoped that they would understand how absolutely disgusting it made her feel to sleep in her clothes. At least her shoes hadn't been on, she reasoned.

Since moving into the Vera house (the name was quickly changed to the Vera-Vaughn house due to Maggie’s constant correction that Macy was a part of this family), Macy had noticed a few things. One, the house sometimes made really weird noises in the middle of the night (whether it was demons or the house’s age, she couldn’t decipher). Two, Mel had a charger in almost every room of the house because she never felt like walking down two flights of stairs when she ultimately forgot her charger in the living room and she was turning in for the night. Three, not a single member of the Vera household (apparently her mom included), was a morning person.

So, imagine Macy’s surprise when she exited her room to make her morning coffee and heard a hushed voice accompanied by the soft clanking of pans coming from the kitchen. She summoned the first thing she could think of to her hands, the hairbrush on her nightstand clasped in her fingers a moment later. Her descent was slow, avoiding the steps that creak in an old house was nearly impossible. She raised the brush (a poor choice in retrospect) and turned the corner simultaneously. Tessa’s name died on her lips.

“Harry?”

He was so absorbed in his cooking that her voice made him jump. “Macy,” he blew out a breath. “What are you...” His voice trailed off as he realized how strange it was to ask her what she was doing in her kitchen.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She moved towards the coffee maker, eyeing him as she went. He had this uncomfortable ram-rod-straight way that he held himself. Like he was being a true gentleman, but also holding the world on his shoulders and if he slouched he would snap in half. He looked immaculate, from his hair, past his perfectly pressed three-piece suit, all the way down to his gleaming dress shoes. And yet, despite all of that...he looked tired. It wasn’t in the way he held himself or the way he dressed, but there was a look on his face, in his eyes (whenever she looked at him the same time he happened to be looking at her). It looked as if he was a thousand miles away and asleep, all at once.

She switched on the coffee maker, watching his movements as he turned away from her and back to the stove. He had an apron looped around his neck and tied behind his back, and it moved gracefully with him as he cooked.

When he spoke, it almost scared “I-uh...I thought after the events of last night, you ladies would need the proper nutrients to truly tackle your day.”

Part of her was grateful, this guy they had met a less than 12 hours ago had taken the time to wake up early and cook them breakfast. The other part of her (whether it was the demon-fighting side, or the ‘there are girls who live alone here’ side) was instantly put off. Mel would have a field day if she found out he had snuck into their house, no matter his intention. She opened her mouth to say something about privacy or boundaries when her stomach growled up at her. Okay, she could admit she was hungry, and he did help save their lives, where was the harm?

“Uh-huh,” She eyed the bacon he was frying, or at least it looked somewhat like bacon. “I should probably tell you now, Maggie won’t be able to eat any of that.” His movements slowed and she took it as her cue to continue, “She’s doing her best to have an all Vegan diet.”

She couldn’t tell where, but she’d lost him. He was looking at her now, head tilted, sort of like a lost puppy, and it was all she could do to avoid laughing. The coffee maker let out a chime, notifying the room that the coffee was made and waiting. Eager to do something with her hands, she moved to fetch a mug.

“What, exactly, does that entail?” Him asking her questions caught her slightly off guard. In the past, all of their other advisors had seemed above them in every sense of the phrase. Even when it was obvious they had no idea what something was, they played it off as if it was common knowledge (Tessa was especially guilty of doing this). So, now, standing with her back to her Whitelighter, Macy couldn’t help but smile. Something about him asking that made him seem human, not an Elder-appointed-demon-hunting-witch-advisor. It was nice.

She turned towards him, a fresh mug of coffee warming her hands, “No animal products whatsoever.”

He let out a strangled noise and pathetically gestured towards what he was making on the stove. She peered over as she mixed some milk and sugar into her coffee. A combination of eggs and meat were either cooked and set to the side or were currently being fried. An unopened can of baked beans sat off to the left.

She tasted her coffee, a bit too bitter. Eyeing him, she poured more sugar into her mug. He was still standing aimlessly looking at the food he’d cooked, a pout forming on his lips. She sipped her coffee again and held back a giggle. It was funny, to see such an esteemed member of her community struggle, but she wasn't naive enough to dismiss the feeling in her chest that told her it was more than that. He cared so much about the meal and getting it just right, it was cute.

Her face contorted at the last thought. Not cute, like cute, cute. Cute, like a puppy or a small...child. Not cute like Gideon from Heaven’s Vice. “She should have some dairy-free yogurt in the fridge if you want to make a parfait.”

Silence befell them, aside from the sizzling of the stove. She could almost see the gears turning in his head. When he spoke, it is full of confusion, “But what about protein?”

She nodded absentmindedly at his comment. She’d wondered the same thing when Maggie had first mentioned it to her (moths ago, when she had just moved in), but trying to be a good sister, she hadn’t questioned it. With time, she found out that although they lack the same amount of protein as regular meat, vegan meat substitutes were always an option. “Now that you mention it, I think I remember her getting some vegan sausages.”

He gasped almost dropping the spatula in his hand. He’s looking at her with a look that’s a cross between horror and confusion. “What business does a vegan sausage have calling itself a sausage?”

She stifled a laugh as he turned back to the stove, flipping an egg that was nearly burned. His accent curled around the words as he pronounced them, and her thoughts filtered back to how cute of a puppy he’d be.

She pursed her lips, “Do you want her to have a sustainable meal or not?”

Her mind reminded her (again) to be keenly aware that she barely knew this man, he was in her house cooking her breakfast, and she was talking a lot. She sipped her coffee. Before her morning elixir, she could hardly function. She hoped that was a viable excuse for being such a Chatty Cathy.

He places two covered plates filled with various proteins on the island in front of Macy and then leveled his gaze at her. She didn’t feel uncomfortable that his eyes were on her, though there was a voice in the back of her head that said she should. He let out a huff that seemed like a cross between annoyance and surrender. “Where are they?”

She cracked a smile at him before gesturing vaguely to the freezer. Leaning against the island, she inhaled the sweet aroma of hazelnut creamer and freshly fried eggs and sausage. He found the sausages a moment later, raising the green bag triumphantly before getting to work at the stove. They stayed like that for a while, Harry cooking, Macy watching him work. It didn’t seem stifled or awkward when their eyes met every once in a while, because she was watching him work too intently and didn’t notice him looking back at her. He simply nodded politely at her, a small smile evident on his face.

She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to just exist in the same space as her Whitelighter. There was always a pressing matter, or training, or a message from the Elders, or the sisters being accused of doing something wrong. She’d run out of fingers counting how many times that Tessa chastised her or Mel on their battle stances, or their relationships, or anything really. She’d known Harry less than 24 hours and yet she didn’t feel weird being around him, it felt, she dare say, comfortable. Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember introducing herself to him. It seemed strange, but it wasn’t. All of their other Whitelighters had just known them (even things that none of them had ever disclosed publicly), but he had yet to breach that veil of privacy. There suddenly was an overwhelming part of her that wanted to introduce herself to him.

Her mouth was moving before she could debate the pros and cons of actually saying something. “I-I’m Macy, by the way.”

His movements halted, and he slowly turned towards her. “Yes, Ms. Vaughn, I know.” He cracked a smile at her, “And I’m Harry.”

She mentally kicked herself. Why would she do that? Of course, he knows who she was! His whole job was to know an uncomfortable amount of information about them.

It wasn’t long before Maggie stumbled into the kitchen. Not that Macy could blame her, the aroma that had filled the kitchen was making her stomach rumble in hungry anticipation. She observed her sister as habit kicked in and Maggie begun preparing her coffee, paying the kitchen’s other occupants no mind. Macy waited to be acknowledged, her sister’s gaze lifting to her face and they shared a smile as Mags sipped her drink.

Macy would never understand how completely unaware her youngest sister could be sometimes, and how it hadn’t gotten her severely injured in the past. Maggie, having an intense lack of situational awareness, hadn't calculated that the second body in the kitchen wasn’t her other sister, but instead her newly appointed Whitelighter.

That much was evident when she spoke up, “Hey Mel, whatcha cookin’?”

When there was no answer, she glanced over at the stove, expecting her older sister. She did a double-take and then let out a blood-curdling scream. Macy had (kind of) been expecting it, yet she almost dropped her coffee anyway. Harry, on the other hand, jumped out of his skin in surprise.

“Ms. Vera! Please.”

“Why do you keep just appearing places?!”

Macy chuckled at her sister’s posture. One hand was pointed accusatory at Harry, and the other was clutched over her rapidly beating heart.

“Well?” Maggie gasped, half expecting a response.

“Breakfast?” Was all Harry offered as he pulled the last vegetarian sausage off of the stove.

Mel chose that moment to enter the kitchen, much to Macy’s stomach’s excitement. She made a less dramatic entrance than her sister, opting for a silent walk to the coffee pot. She watched as her sister poured her coffee and sipped it black, her eyes nailed on Harry as he busied himself with setting the table.

She met his eyes when he turned towards the kitchen to retrieve the last of the food. Their eyes locked and she deliberately sipped her coffee. Macy wondered if it was some kind of power move; she’d never had the best luck guessing what was going on in Mel’s head.

“I hope you ladies are hungry. I figured after all the hard work put in last night, you’d need adequate nutrients for the day ahead.”

Macy caught Mel rolling her eyes as she slipped into her seat, and she knew they were going to hear her unfiltered thoughts later.

Harry was quick to place each sister’s carefully arranged breakfast plate in front of them before he took a seat next to Maggie. Macy watched her sisters very carefully, deliberately taking the first bite to coax them into following her lead. Maggie didn’t pose much of a challenge; the contents of her plate were gone before Macy could ask what was on it in the first place. Mel proved to be more of a challenge, but eventually, the smell of a freshly cooked meal overpowered her stubborn nature.

They ate in silence for a while, the only sound was that of clinking silver against the porcelain plates. Every so often, Mel shot a glance at Harry, but their Whitelighter was too busy enjoying his food to pay her any mind. It wasn’t until everyone had finished their breakfast that Harry broke the silence.

“By the looks of it, you ladies enjoyed breakfast.”

“Yeah, thanks, Harry,” Maggie chimed, grinning.

“Right,” He sat straighter in his chair and something about the movement gave Macy the impression that he meant business. “There are a few things I would like to discuss with you ladies. After the attack last night, I sealed the house with a protection spell. I won’t lie, it’s troublesome that there wasn’t one up already-”

Mel spoke before Macy had the opportunity to open her mouth, her tone bored and accusatory. “Tessa put one up, but it must have been the same way Charles put it up. And Angelica before him and Glen before her.” All of Harry's attention was on her, despite getting interrupted. “But it doesn’t seem to matter, every time they...leave us, so does the protection spell.”

“Ah,” he leaned back. “They haven’t been rooting the spell to the house, it’s been rooted in their magic.”

He received blank stares as a response. Waving his hand, he dismissed his own words. “No matter, I’ll handle that. We must make sure there are no more surprises. Then, once I’m positive you ladies can perform a high-level spell yourselves, I’ll have you secure it to your magic.”

Mel huffed in annoyance, but he countered her with a look.

“With all due respect, Ms. Vera, I do not want to end up like any of your other advisors. I particularly enjoy my human form and hope to keep it intact.”

None of them could argue with him, no matter how much Mel would've like to.

“You said there were a few things to talk about?”

“Yes, thank you, Macy, I just wanted you three to be aware that I also cleaned up the foyer area. I know my plan lead to a bit of destruction, so I took the liberty of fixing that.” He puts his hand on his chin and adds, half to himself, “It was odd, however, the severe lack of scorch marks left...”

Maggie pursed her lips at his words, they all know what was on her mind before the words slipped from her lips. “That’s impossible. During the last attack, Mel got burned so bad that Tessa couldn’t even heal it completely.”

Macy’s surprised Harry didn't get whiplash, his neck snapped to her sister so fast. Mel let out another signature huff, waving her hand nonchalantly, but pulled up her sleeve to display her forearm. Sitting directly in the middle of her arm was an inch long, jagged burn mark that had since dulled its pink hue, exchanging it for a more neutral shade. She could remember that day so vividly, it scared her. Mel had been holding off the creature as Macy and Maggie desperately searched for a vanquishing spell; they’d found one, but not before Mel’s magic had slipped, leaving her wide open for a jet stream of fire. After that incident, Tessa had issued immediate Power of Three training sessions. They all knew how well those had gone in the weeks that followed.

Harry shot to his feet, his fingers gingerly taking hold of Mel’s arm, and for a moment Macy is scared her sister is going to sucker punch him in the throat. One thing they had instantly been able to bond over, was their mutual distaste for being touched non-consensually. But Mel only side-eyed him as he gingerly traced a finger over her scar.

“Interesting,” He said once he'd retracted his hands, a grave look clouding over his features almost instantaneously. “If I had to take a guess I’d say that this magic has been altered to only affect witches.” He sucked in a breath, the sudden smell of static electricity was overwhelming. “Even worse, it may only hurt you three.”

No one moved. He seemed to be stuck in time, like an old black and white movie projected on a brand new flat-screen TV, and Macy looked over at Mel to be sure she hadn’t tampered with time. It didn’t work on Whitelighters, that much she was aware of, but the way he was standing, unmoving and unresponsive, she had to be sure. When he moved again, Macy nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I’ll have to speak to the Elders about this.” If he heard Mel’s gagging sounds, he made no move to address them. “Please stay vigilant, there could be more demons, and if there are, they’ll attack from every direction.”

They all nodded in unison. This wasn’t their first rodeo, nor was this their first Whitelighter speech (or Whitelighter for that matter). He lifts his hand, fingers at the ready to snap out of their kitchen, the look of horror still evident on his face.

“Oh, and ladies, do check your phones, we now share a calendar. Training starts tomorrow at two and be prompt, I hate getting started later than necessary.”

With a snap and a whipping sound, their Whitelighter was gone from their kitchen.

“Great,” Mel started, “So not only is our Whitelighter straight out of fuckin’ Love Actually, but he also is going to the Elders with all of our business.”

Macy didn’t want to have to agree with her sister, always quick to think the worst, but the way Harry had handled the situation left her uneasy. Mel had never been an easy one to convince that their advisors were trustworthy, but since joining the Sarcana (under Charity’s instruction ironically) she’d distrusted each one a little less. According to her sister, they were all foot soldiers in the Elder’s inevitable war on anything and everything that didn’t assimilate to their instruction. Macy didn’t know if that was more of the Sarcana talking through Mel or her sister’s thoughts, but there was sufficient evidence (recurring, in fact) to not completely dismiss the notions.

“I know he’s an ‘Elder Lackey’ and all,” Maggie threw out, supplying air quotes, “but maybe we can give him a chance?” Mel opened her mouth to interject, but something about Maggie’s face stopped her.

She was messing with the zipper on her top; her eyes unfocused, distant from the reality they were in. There was something about her face that made Mel falter, and then drop any argument she has. “Maybe he’s one of the good ones?”

Macy knew the probability of that was low, but yet, part of her eagerly wanted Maggie to be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we surprised that Mel has an issue with the Elders? No. And if you are, I don't know where you've been!


End file.
